


The Dead of Night

by Tilltheendwilliwrite



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blood and Gore, F/M, Horror, Violence, Zombie Apocalypse, тэг заменён на Don't copy to another site
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 23:45:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18839221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tilltheendwilliwrite/pseuds/Tilltheendwilliwrite
Summary: They’d laughed about it. Teased and joked. Made silly plans in the light of day and forgot about it when their lives took them separate ways. Forgot about it until that fateful day when Clint Barton answered his phone and she said those fateful words…”Jilly Bean!” Clint cheered as he answered his phone. He hadn’t heard from her in some time.“Clint...”The soft whimper and abject terror in her voice had him coming to his feet. “Jillian? What’s wrong? What happened?”Her breath shuddered down the line followed by a soft sob. “Code Z.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Language, gore, violence

* * *

 

She had to hurry and get out of the building without arousing suspicion and before… before… before it all went wrong. Jillian stuffed her phone, keycard, and the flash drive into her purse then shrugged out of her lab coat and stuffed it into a garbage can. She wouldn’t be coming back here - not ever if she had her way.

At the building security desk, Mike looked up and waved as she headed for the doors. “You’re here late, Miss Jillian.”

“Got sucked into a project,” she smiled, the mantra of _keep it together, keep it together, keep it together,_ racing through her mind. She wanted to scream, warn him, tell him to run, but she couldn’t.

She had to get the information out of the building. Get it to someone who could do something about it. Who could stop what was happening here.

“Well, you be safe and have a good night.”

He waved and buzzed her out, and Jillian fought every cell of her body when it screamed _run_ at her and sent adrenaline rushing through her veins. She walked toward the complex where her car was parked, only to hear the klaxon siren sound behind her as the building went into lockdown.

The hold she had on her instincts deserted her as terror screamed hot and heavy through her veins. Jillian bolted.

She ran away from the building and away from her car, too scared to make her way through the concrete structure, and headed into the city where the beacon of light that was Avengers tower glowed. She broke a heel on a steam grate and fell hard to the ground, abrading the skin of her hands and knees, and sending her purse flying. She scrambled after it, thankful it hadn’t scattered its innards everywhere.

She took a moment to breathe even though she shouldn’t. There wasn’t much time before they came after her and dug out her phone, dialling a number she knew by heart though hadn’t called in a while as she continued walking.

With every step, she prayed he’d pick up.

***

Clint laughed at Sam when Nat soundly kicked his ass at billiards for the second time. “Give it up, man. She’s got your number.”

Nat threw a smirk at him. “Want to give it a go?”

“Ah, sweetheart.” Clint shook his head. “You know you’ll just get pissy when I run the table. Then you’ll want to kick my ass tomorrow literally.”

She grinned and sent him a wink. “Touche.”

Clint chuckled and went to join Steve, Tony, and Bucky on the couch. Rhody was over at the bar with Wanda and Vision, while Bruce and Scott were discussing something Clint couldn’t overhear unless he turned up his hearing aids. As he was disinclined to do so, he ignored them for the moment and plopped down on the couch.

“Was a good party,” he sighed, leaning his head back on the sofa.

“That it was, old man,” Tony popped him one in the shoulder.

“Dude, you’re older than I am!” Clint grumbled, then a sly grin crawled across his face. “But not as old as those two grandpas.”

Both men rolled their eyes.

Before either could comment, Clint felt the telltale buzz of his cell phone in his pocket. As it was pushing three in the morning, and damn near everyone likely to call him was in this room, he frowned and dug it out.

He felt himself light up at the display. ”Jilly Bean!” Clint cheered as he answered his phone. He hadn’t heard from her in some time.

“Clint…”

The soft whimper and abject terror in her voice had him coming to his feet. “Jillian? What’s wrong? What happened?”

Her breath shuddered down the line, followed by a soft sob. “Code Z.”

“Jesus…,” he breathed. There wasn’t a moment's doubt in his mind she was having a laugh at his expense. She wouldn't do that. Not about this. “Where are you?”

“I’m… ten blocks from the lab. Clint… please.”

“You stay on the line with me, Jilly! We’re coming for you right now!” He looked hard at his friends, his teammates, and focused on Tony. “Fuck it. _I’m_ coming for you. Stark! I need a suit!”

“Barton?” Tony frowned.

“I don’t have time, Tony! This is life and death, and I need a suit!” Clint barked. He’d never asked for anything, rarely even requested weapons though Stark continued to make them for him, this time the man must have seen the _need_ inside him.

Tony rose quickly to his feet. “Fine, but Rhodey and I are coming with you, and you get the base model. Friday! Give him the Mark ninety-six.”

“Jilly,” Clint murmured into the phone. “How much time do we have?”

“Hours,” she whispered. “Days at most. The building went into lockdown after I left. I don’t know if that’s because… because… Clint, I stole it all. Everything they’re doing.”

 _Shit!_ Maybe it was a good thing Stark and Rhodey were coming along. “We’re coming, Jilly. Friday, can you pinpoint her location?” he asked the AI as the suit Tony called for along with Rhodey’s arrived on the balcony outside the building.

“I already have as well as linked your cell phone to the Mark ninety-six.”

Relief flooded him as he headed out of the building and stepped straight into the suit after stuffing his phone back in his pocket. “Stark, if you trust me, you’ll put this building into Apocalypse lockdown and call Pete to come in with his Aunt.” He turned and looked at Tony in the other red suit. “Tell him to bring her on the high road.” May wasn't going to be happy about swinging through the city, but they wouldn't be safe on the streets.

Tony’s brows rose, but he nodded and gave the commands for Friday as they stepped off the roof together. Having never flown in one of these suits before, he left it to Friday to run on autopilot and focused on keeping Jilly calm.

“How you doing, squirt?”

She gave a sharp gasping laugh. “You’re really going to go there, crash?”

“As I’m currently in one of Stark’s multi-million dollar suits, maybe we should skip those nicknames.”

Another gasping laugh came to him before an inhuman growl ripped through the phone. “Oh, no…”

“Jilly?”

“Clint! Hurry!”

By her pounding feet and panting breaths, he knew she was running, but running from what? “Jilly! What is it?”

“Dogs! Kill them all! Headshots, Clint!” she yelled. “Don’t let them get away!”

“We’re coming up on you now!” Clint bellowed.

“Barton, you’re going to get her. We’ll take out the… dogs,” Rhodey murmured, his confusion evident.

They swerved around the corner and damn near fell out of the sky at the picture before them. Jillian was running full out down the dark street, her shoes long gone, being chased by a pack of… dogs? No. That wasn't quite right.

Something that looked like hellhounds, huge and dripping with skin that shivered and rippled, almost seeming to tear off as they moved were running her down. "Fuck! Jilly!"

Stark and Rhodes opened fire as Clint swept down and scooped her away from the snapping jaws. The beasts howled and screamed in anger, leaping after them, one clamping strong jaws around Clint's leg.

"Shit!" he bellowed, feeling Jilly slipping.

Friday fired the blaster on his boot, and the creature screamed as it fell, leaving him clinging to Jilly, heart pounding as he carefully adjusted her. His faceplate snapped up.

"Hey, babe," he grinned. "So… Hellhounds?"

Jilly burst into hysterical giggles and clung to him. "I missed you, Clint." Laughter became tears as the gunfire slowly ended.

He looked down at the pile of dead bodies and then back at Jilly when Stark asked what to do with them.

"Burn it," she whispered. "Burn them all."

"I'm taking a sample. Bruce needs to see this."

"No!" Jilly cried, whipping around. "Don't touch them! I've got all you need, but if you touch those… _things_ you'll have to go into quarantine!"

"What the fuck are we dealing with, Barton?" Rhodey asked as he ignored Tony's grumbling and began incinerating the carcasses.

Clint looked at Jilly and sighed. "Viral?" She nodded. "Viral outbreak. Reanimated dead. A plague of global proportions."

"Did he just say Zombie apocalypse with a lot more words?" Rhodey asked Tony.

Stark looked up at Clint. "Yeah. Dammit all to hell!"

Jilly shuddered. "Be careful what you wish for."

***

When they arrived back at the tower, Clint set Jilly carefully on her feet and stepped out of the suit. He barely got around it when her legs gave out. That’s when he noticed the blood pooling beneath her feet. “Shit, Jilly!”

Again he swept her off them and carried her inside, ignoring the cries and calls from the others. “Meet me in medical,” he snapped, striding onto the elevator without waiting for the others.

They rode down in silence, but every few breaths Jillian shivered all over, and the shakes were getting more violent with every floor they descended.

“Did it bite you?” she whispered, her face tight against his throat.

“Just the suit. I’m fine,” he assured her.

“You have to check, Clint. Scratches, bites, anything. Even their blood in your mouth or eyes could… could turn…”

He could feel the hot wet tears sliding down his neck. “Hey, Jelly Bean. I’m fine. I swear. Friday would have said something if the suit had become compromised.”

“He is correct, Dr. Blanchard.”

Jilly startled but didn’t move, only tightened her arms. “It’s so bad, Clint.”

“Let’s get you fixed up; then you can tell us everything.”

“We can’t stay here. If it’s out, the tower will be swarmed.”

“Don’t worry. We’re prepared.”

That had her lifting her head. “You’re prepared for a zombie outbreak? I know we made silly plans, Clint, but come on? You’re telling me Tony Stark believed in the possibility enough to zombie-proof the tower?”

“Okay, maybe not _zombies_ , but Stark is nothing if not prepared. The tower’s been breached before. After that, he did extensive renovations. He’s already enacted the first level of security, sealing down the outside of the tower in steel plates up to the twentieth floor. No one in or out. As it is, there’s practically no one here but us and building security. From there, he can lock down each floor, each hallway, each elevator shaft and air system. We could seal an entire floor and cut off the air supply if needed.”

“Clint… they won’t need air. They’re already dead.”

Her words made his heart stutter. “Christ, Jelly Bean. What did they do in there?”

She closed her eyes as if to close out the horror’s she’d witnessed only to shudder and open them again, revealing haunted violet orbs. “So many things…” Tears cascaded down her cheeks.

He walked off the elevator and down the hall to the med wing where Bruce was already waiting.

“Bruce Banner, Jillian Blanchard.”

Bruce nodded, but his attention was fully on Jillian’s feet. “Nice to meet you. Clint put her on the bed.”

He set her down, watching as she clung to her purse. “Jilly?”

Pale as a ghost, she took a couple of shuddering breaths before peeling her fingers from the leather and unzipping it. She dug around inside and pulled out the silver flash drive. “This is it. Everything. The formulas, the experiments, the… the Fallout Plan.”

“Shit… Fallout Plan?” he whispered. It was worse than he thought.

“I’d like an explanation, as would the rest of us,” Steve said, striding into the room. “Tony and Rhodey are muttering about Zombies. Really, Clint?”

Disbelief and uncertainty but no censure. He was struggling with the idea, but Friday had probably played the fight for them in real time. If Cap had seen those… dogs, he had to know it was real.

Jilly hissed as Bruce began cleaning her feet. Without her needing to ask, Clint climbed on the bed with her, shifted his legs around her, and let her lean against him. “Everyone, Jillian Blanchard. She’s a doctor, specializing in bioweapons, viruses, and chemical warfare. We went through SHIELD training together.” Everyone including Natasha gasped.

“She’s a SHIELD agent?” Sam asked.

“I was, well… I am. Sort of,” Jilly winced, twitching as Bruce pulled gravel out of her feet. “I was with SHIELD when I was offered a position at Lager Industries, designing viruses.”

“Designing?” Tony sneered. “To what? Kill people? Make a world of Zombies?”

“No!” Jilly snapped. “That wasn’t me! God!” She bent and placed her head in her hands. “Clint and I used to joke about it. Make stupid plans if it all went down. It was just… silliness! We made code words and battle plans, and it was going to be my job to stop it. Create a cure. Oh, God. I don’t know… I don’t know if I can.”

“Jilly.” Clint ached for her and held her tighter. When the group remained quiet, Clint sighed and explained what he could. “Lager Industries was one of many corporations SHIELD was keeping tabs on. Biowarfare was becoming a concern and Jillian was brilliant when it came to that shit. SHIELD decided that she would finish her training but ultimately “flunk out” allowing her to take the position at Lager while pretending to no longer have ties with SHIELD.”

“So, you’ve been undercover for how long?” Natasha asked.

“Fifteen or so years, but after SHIELD fell… I just… um, stayed with Lager. No one but Clint and Fury knew about my assignment. It wasn’t even on the books, so Lager never found out when all that information spewed, well, everywhere. I’ve been gradually working my way deeper into the company because… something didn’t feel right.”

“How so, Jilly?” Clint asked against her ear.

“A group of researchers, they… disappeared. Came into work one day, went down to the security levels underground, and as far as I could tell, they never came back.”

“When was this?” Vision asked.

“Nine months ago.”

“What the hell?” Bucky muttered. “Why didn’t you come to us sooner?”

She scowled at him and held out the flash drive. “Do you _know_ how hard this was to get? It took me five months _just_ to gain security clearance to get _down_ to that level, and another three to prove… prove… prove my loyalty.” She shuddered all over. “Then it took nearly a month to gather all the documents. I couldn’t access or download entire chunks of data without raising alarms, so it was bits at a time. Tonight I… I finished, likely blowing my cover, but I couldn’t wait any longer.”

“Did you find out what happened to the missing researchers?” Scott asked.

Jilly’s hand shook as she reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. Her fingerprint unlocked it, and she quickly brushed through her apps to one buried inside folder after folder. After another fingerprint scan and passcode entry, she opened an image that made bile rise in Clint’s throat.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered when she passed her phone to Steve.

“Is… is this real?” the man asked, his skin as white as Clint felt.

Jilly slowly nodded. “Swipe right. There’s… there’s video.”

Steve’s finger hesitated for a moment before he clicked to begin the video. The sound made Clint’s skin crawl. It was like every horror movie known to man had gotten it wrong. There was no screaming, more a croaking as if a throat was trying to make a noise but all it could do was rub it’s vocal cords together.

Jillian lifted her hands and pressed them to her ears, rocking against him as fresh tears fell down her face. Clint couldn’t see what was happening, but the sudden silence had every hair on his body standing straight up. When the scream came, it was the sound of an animal dying, growls of something feral, and wet ripping as what was once people tore their prey apart.

“Sweet Jesus,” Steve whispered and turned off the video.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Scott murmured, turning away. Wanda too looked more than just a little queasy when she turned her face into Vision’s chest.

“The dogs are worse,” Jillian whispered. “Something about their change… their olfactory sense is so strong, they’re able to give the creatures a scent, and nothing stops them. They hunt that scent and only that scent until they find it and shred it apart. Then they run wild.”

“That’s why you wanted us to kill them all?” Tony asked.

Jilly nodded. “They’re worse than… than the people. A bite or scratch from one of those dogs and you’re shit out of luck. You touch their skin; you’re the same. They are a walking plague carrier. The people you need to watch out for bites, scratches, and getting their blood in you.”

“You’re sure about this?” Tony asked, plucking the flash drive from her fingers.

“They did… experiments,” she whispered.

“You keep saying they. Who’s they?” Bucky asked.

“Hydra. It’s their Fallout Plan in case Project Insight failed.” She gave a shuddering breath. “They’re going to wipe out as much of the planet as possible, but haven’t gone through with it yet because… there is no immunization against this plague.”

“Yet they were desperate enough to release those dogs?” Steve murmured.

“I stole all their data. Yeah, they would be.” She shivered as Bruce began to wrap her feet. “And some of them had kill switches implanted before they… turned.”

“Kill switches?” Sam asked.

Jillian brought her hands together and then pulled them apart. “Kaboom.”

“Ah,” he nodded.

“So why now?” Tony asked. “Why rush to get it out today?”

“There was an… incident. Two levels of the basement were in lockdown when I went in. People were running around in hazmat gear with guns, and we weren’t allowed to go down to work. I already had most of the data, but I knew I needed the rest. If there had been a breach, I was never going back there. So I waited until everyone left for the day and snuck downstairs.”

“Jillian!” Clint barked.

“It was fine. My office wasn’t in one of the lockdown floors, and the virus isn’t airborne. I got in, downloaded the last of the files in one go, and got out. Shortly after I left, there were sirens, alarms, gates crashing down over the windows. I don’t know whether it was me or… something worse.”

“Friday?” Tony murmured.

“I am monitoring the Lager Industries building. There is a large force of armed men entering the building, but I am yet to gain access to their security cameras.”

“Let me know when you’re in.”

“Of course, Boss.”

Then Tony handed the flash drive to Bruce. “You’ll know more of this than I will.”

“And Helen is at the compound. I can send the data on to her and see what she thinks,” Bruce said as he stood to leave, likely heading for his lab.

“I’m putting out a mass email advising everyone to stay home until we know more. The tower is on lockdown, but Peter and May just arrived. Dr. Blanchard, I sincerely hope you’re wrong about what’s going on at Lager.” Tony turned and walked away, already reaching for his phone.

Pepper was out of the country at the moment, and Clint didn’t doubt he was calling her to tell her to stay that way.

“I hope so too, Mr. Stark,” Jilly whispered, turning into Clint and burrowing against his chest.

Clint did as well, but he also knew Jilly. She was too smart to jump to conclusions and too scared to be wrong. Jillian was anything but a fraidy cat. She had nerves of steel, had to working with some of the viruses she handled. As she was utterly terrified, Clint knew what was coming was going to be a new form of hell.

“Why don’t you take Jillian to get some sleep, Clint,” Natasha offered kindly, eyeing the hands and knees Bruce hadn't bothered to clean, leaving those superficial cuts for Clint to see too.

He nodded and scooped the trembling woman into his arms for the third time. “Yeah, we probably all should.” He didn’t have to say what they were all thinking.

_While they still could._

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Smut, gore, horror, language

* * *

 

By the time Clint reached his room, Jillian's shivers were back to full-blown shakes. She clung to him, body taught, her breath shallow little gasps. 

He took her into the bathroom and set her on the counter before reaching blindly to turn on the light, unable to move away when her hold on his neck tightened. 

"Clint," she whimpered. "I did terrible things."

He gently rubbed her back. "Jilly, anything you did was to get you closer to the truth." 

"No, Clint, you don't understand." She broke down and started to cry, gasping sobs that soaked his shirt. "They used something I discovered to make the virus!"

"Oh, christ, Jilly, no." 

She nodded and sobbed harder. "I didn't know. I didn't. I swear!"

"It's okay, Jilly Bean. It wasn't your fault," he murmured, holding her tighter.

"It-is!" she gasped, her sobs breaking her sentences down into stuttered pieces. "I did- terrible- things!"

"Shh, okay. Alright." He ran his hands through her hair, combing out the tangles before lightly massaging her scalp. "You'll give yourself a migraine you keep this up."

"I slept with- the- head of- the program," she admitted, "to get- clearance."

"Oh, baby," he whispered into her hair, knowing how that would affect her strict moral compass.

"My work- made- the virus- possible!"

"Jilly."

"I thought- Ebola cure. Instead- zombies!"

"Okay, okay." He yanked her arms from around his neck so he could shift her back enough to take her face between his hands. "Jillian Blanchard, you listen, and you listen good. That is what Hydra does. They lie, and they steal, and they take good people's work and twist it in the most heinous way possible."

"I- knew that- going in!"

"Then why are you blaming yourself?"

"Got- comfortable. Got- careless. Now… apocalypse," she whimpered, tears still streaming down her face.

"Oh, Jilly," he whispered. Unable to bear her pain and self-loathing one moment longer, Clint tilted her face up and kissed her. 

Fifteen years fell away with her first soft intake of breath. 

Nothing had changed. She still made his stomach flip and heart pound. She still tasted like cherry lip gloss though this time, it was tainted with tears. She still sighed and melted in the same manner, her hands closing on his waist as her knees spread so she could tug him between them.

Clint placed his forehead on hers, their noses brushing as he held her still and soaked up having her near him again. "I've missed you like crazy, Jilly. Every damn day since you took that assignment."

She linked her fingers at his low back. "I kept seeing you on the news. It was terrifying knowing you were out there being a hero, putting your life on the line, and I couldn't even check on you. Clint-"

"I know, Jilly. It's okay."

She shuddered and whispered, "I still love you, Clint."

He sighed in relief. "I never stopped loving you, Jilly."

"If it's the end of the world, I'm glad I'm with you."

"We're going to stop it. That's what we do. We've stopped it a few times now. This isn't going to be any different."

She snorted a scoff. "A virus isn't something you can fight with your fists, Clint."

"No. You get to solve that one. I'm just the good shot, remember."

"I don't know if I can. It's so mutated and… squirrely. I've never seen anything like it."

"How did you get the video?" he asked, pulling away to grab the first aid kit so he could finish cleaning her up and slid the Kleenex box beside her thigh.

She plucked one out and wiped her nose. "Ralph is, was, is… I don't even know anymore, the head of the project. When I, um, well…"

"Had sex with him," Clint said without censure or harshness, smirking at her while swiping antibacterial wipes over her cuts.

She blushed but continued. "Yeah. When that was happening, I spiked his drink with a sleeping pill and used the opportunity to plant those micro-cameras on his key card, the edge of his glasses, and his phone. I had access to almost everything that way, including his passwords. That's how I downloaded the rest of the files."

"It took five months to get him to sleep with you?"

Jilly smacked his shoulder, then hissed in pain. "Of course not! I tried other avenues first. Requested deadlier viruses. Started interesting projects. Discussed weaponizing the Bubonic Plague."

"Jesus, Jilly!"

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't actually do it! It was a theory."

"And Ebola?"

She slumped against the mirror. "Three years ago, I was given a challenge. Figure out how to vaccinate against Ebola. It took six months, but I was finally onto something when they shut the project down. They said it was too dangerous. I had no idea they'd bastardized my work until I was underground."

"Tell me," he prodded, dabbing cream on her cuts.

"Ralph took an interest. We weren't in the same department, but he said he'd "heard good things," and asked me to dinner. We dated a while, a couple of weeks before I slept with him. Then I was suddenly offered a place on his team, and he said if we were working together, we couldn't be dating and broke it off."

"Asshole," Clint muttered. 

Ralph had used Jilly for sex at the same time she had used him for access. The only difference was Jilly did it as part of her mission. This Ralph person was just a dick.

"He put me on the dog project," she whispered. Shame flooded her face. "I helped with those things, Clint. The tests and trials. That's why I know so much about them. He said if I could stomach the dogs, prove myself loyal, I'd be allowed into the other labs. Three weeks later was the first time I saw the people via his card cam." She hissed when he began cleaning her palms. "He wears his key card on one of those clip-on extenders. Sometimes it didn't catch much, and his glasses were for reading, so he didn't often wear them into… into the cages. I needed that one for his computer, but I noticed he often wore his keycard hooked to his breast pocket of his lab coat. Not always, but enough to make it worth trying for, so I stuck the camera to where the plastic tab joined the elastic string and… yeah."

"Was that the video you showed the others?"

She shook her head. "It was a partial view, but I saw enough. The full video I lucked out getting. He tucked his glasses in his coat pocket, left the camera sticking out. I never got into that section of the lab, but I've enough footage for a general layout. It's all bits and pieces, but it should be enough."

"How bad are we talking here, Jilly?" Clint asked, having been unable to see the video.

"It's bad," she whispered as he applied bandaids to her palms. "If they lose containment of that virus or the creatures those poor people have become… humanity as we know it is in deep shit." She shivered and laid her hands over his heart. "I'm so scared, Clint."

He ached for her and gently cupped her chin. "Fear keeps us alive, but you know what else keeps us alive?" She shook her head. "This." 

Her lips were soft and still tasting of salt when he sampled them again, but they were also warm and generous, moulding to his in a way his brain remembered well. When she moaned, he slipped his tongue between her parted lips and sank deep, re-learning every part of her, renewing her taste in his memory. 

She made no move to stop him when he crawled her skirt up her legs, just wrapped her arms around him and lifted her hips to assist. 

He yanked his mouth away the moment his fingers found damp lace between her thighs. "You sure, jellybean? I don't want to rush you."

She grabbed him by the ears and dragged him back to her lips. "Fifteen years. Yeah, I'm sure."

Kisses turned feverish and desperate as they tore at each other's clothes. Clint fought her jacket off her shoulders; she shook it down her arms. Jilly ripped his shirt from throat to navel, sending buttons pinging off tiles. He laughed and bit her bottom lip. 

The familiarity after all these years made them fumble a step as they learned each other anew. Clint had scars she lingered over, places she pressed kisses too where a knife or bullet - or Chitauri weapon - had left its mark, while she was no longer the girl he'd know but a woman grown. 

Full breasts filled out black lace and made his mouth water. Round hips and juicy ass begged for his hands. Her voice carried a sultry tone he wanted to hear all night long. 

Fifteen years had passed them by, but Clint felt them all evaporate the minute his tongue found the swell of her breast.

"Clint, baby."

It gave him a thrill and set an ache in his heart. How he missed that sound. The precious way she moaned his name and carded her fingers through his hair. 

"Too long, Jilly. Too long." He'd almost forgotten the way she smelled. It was a weird mix of chemical disinfectant from the lab and oranges, citrus sweet and tangy from the body lotion she obsessed over.

He buried his face in her throat and dragged her to the edge of the countertop before finding the damp patch of her underwear and slipping his fingers beneath. 

Her features twisted with ecstasy. Her mouth fell open. Jilly moaned his name and Clint lost control. He tore out the lacy gusset and guided his cock to her wet heat. A soul-deep groan left him when he sank inside. 

It was like coming home. 

She hadn't been his first, but he'd been hers, and when it came to love, she'd held his heart for fifteen years. He'd had other partners in that time, but he'd never loved them, couldn't, holding out hope she'd eventually be free to come back to him.

"Clint." She clung to him, her body softer than it used to be, more mature. 

He loved it. All those curves. That ass. "I got you, baby," he whispered, barely moving his hips, having no desire to leave what he'd finally gotten back.

"You never lost me," she sighed. Her lips ran the length of his stubbled jaw.

He turned his head to capture her mouth and fell, as he had all those years ago, right down the rabbit hole into love. She was Alice, leading him through wonderland. He was the Hatter, as mad for her as ever.

He touched her all over, hands stroking soft skin. Beneath it all, he could feel the strength, the sleek muscle and power. She was an agent still under all that softness, proven when he lifted her and her knees locked at his waist.

He carried her to his bed and tumbled onto it, the need in him winning out over the desire to wallow. They could wallow later. Now he wanted her desperately and pulled out to slam back in.

It all came back. What she liked. What she loved. How if he twisted his hips in a little circle, it hit her sweet spot perfectly to see her screaming, and if he kept going, sucking her breasts as he circled, he could make her come so hard, she'd soak him, herself, and the bedding.

"Oh, God. Fuck! _Clint_!" she shrieked, her hands now clenched in his hair. "Yes, baby. Fucking so good. Give me that dick!"

He loved how she progressively got louder and more lewd and slammed his hips into her harder. 

"Going to come. Yes, baby. Just like _that_!" Her voice broke when she arched and whined, her release hard, massaging his cock with rhythmic pulses.

He tried to hold out, but he'd forgotten how amazing that felt and groaned into the valley between her breasts as he fucked, hard and dirty into her before succumbing. He let the fire tear through him, burn him to ash and cleanse him as he poured himself into her and collapsed. 

"Fuck, Jilly," he gasped, breathing hard.

"You going to live, old man?" 

He glanced up to find her smirking at him. "Don't laugh. You just fucked an old man."

She snickered and tugged on his hair. "An old man whose moves have gotten even better."

"Yeah? Tell me more," he grinned as he shifted to the side, big spoon to her little, and tugged the blanket over them, not making his bed finally paying off.

She ran her fingers down his arm to link them through his and kissed his palm. "I don't think your ego needs to get any bigger."

"Ego! I have the least ego of anyone here!"

She chuckled and snuggled closer but said nothing, her body going still. They rested quietly together for a few minutes before she squeezed his hand. 

"Things could get bad."

"We've dealt with bad before." 

"Not like this," she whispered. "You've never seen anything like this."

"Have a little faith, Jilly bean. We can stop this." He kissed the top of her head and held her close. "Go to sleep. They're gonna have a lot more questions before you know it."

She sighed but nodded.

Eventually, her breathing slowed and evened out. Clint drifted into sleep with her, a light one that would allow him to rest while remaining aware of their surroundings.

Soon, he knew Friday would hack Lager's security system, and they'd have eyes inside.

What those eyes would reveal?

He was scared to find out.

***

A few hours later, Clint woke to Jilly's nightmare, soft moans and desperate cries he soothed with whispered words and gentle hands until she settled and went back to sleep. He blinked at the clock and groaned silently. 

It wasn't nearly enough sleep, but a blue light was blinking, indicating someone needed him. Not urgently or they would have woken him, but someone was looking for him. 

He rolled out of bed carefully, his circus training making him light on his feet even after all these years, and padded silently into the closet where he pulled on clean clothes. "Friday?" he murmured, making sure not to disturb Jilly. "When Jilly wakes up, let her know where I've gone."

"Of course, Clint."

He paused, then asked, "Where am I going?"

She chuckled softly. "Bruce's lab. The others have gathered."

"Thanks."

He closed the door with barely a click and sprinted down the hall to the stairwell. It was quicker to slide down the banister a couple of floors than to ride in the elevator. Well, maybe not faster, but it helped him shake off the last threads of sleep. 

By the time he hit the door three floors down, he was ready for coffee and a bagel, but his appetite vanished when he walked into the lab and finally _saw_ what he’d only heard earlier. 

The people, for they couldn’t be anything but people, sure didn’t look human anymore. 

They were gaunt, skin grey and pulled tight, dehydrated like mummies. Their lips pulled against teeth that appeared to bulge from protruding jaws — chapped and raw and stained a deep red. Milk filmed eyes had the look of death, but shifted quickly back and forth, taking in the people standing beyond the glass. 

Held in cells backed by concrete walls with steel doors, the group of five milled aimlessly until the door in the next cell opened. A sheep was shoved through and locked inside. 

The group of zombies froze, turned as one toward the glass wall, and waited. When the partition between the two cells vanished, they pounced. 

What surprised Clint most was the speed. They were fast. Too fast. Almost superhuman. 

Thankfully the sound was off, but that didn’t stop him from remembering the croaking noise nor the screams of the dying animal. An animal torn into pieces by hands and teeth, spraying blood and offal everywhere. 

His stomach lurched when the people began stuffing handfuls of raw meat in their mouths. One grabbed a leg and appeared to suck on marrow and blood. But something seemed… off. Well, more off than a bunch of zombie people.

“Back it up.”

Everyone jumped.

“Christ, Clint!” Sam rubbed his chest. “Scuff a boot or something.”

He snickered, walking closer to wave at the screen. “Back it up to just before the sheep.”

Tony waved his hand, and the video reversed. “What did you see?”

“Not sure.” He frowned at the video. “Stop. Play it from there.” The video started again, and he watched intently. “Stop. Back it up.”

“What is it?” Steve asked. “What are we missing?”

“There,” Clint murmured. “That one. Isolate and zoom in. Start playback.”

“Shit…” Bucky and Nat hissed at the same time. 

“What the hell is that?” Rhodey asked. 

“He’s the leader,” Clint murmured. “They’re communicating.” Small hand movements had the other four shifting into attack formation before the barrier between cells came down.

“I told you. They are nothing you’ve ever seen before.”

He turned to find Jilly leaning heavily against the door. “Jilly, you shouldn’t be on those feet.”

She rolled her eyes and limped closer, wearing a pair of his boxers and one of his sweatshirts. 

Clint rolled his eyes and went to scoop her up and drop her down in a chair beside Bruce. “You could have called me, squirt.”

“You could have woke me up, crash.”

“Question?” Peter raised his hand. 

Clint hadn’t even realized he was there, so intent on the video. “Yeah, kid?”

“Crash?”

“He’s always been accident-prone,” Jilly smirked. 

“And you’ve always been short,” Clint grumbled. 

“Seeing as how you are awake,” Bruce murmured, drawing everyone’s attention. “Can you give a general description of what we’re seeing?”

She glanced at the screen, shivered, and looked away. “The women are Jane Taylor and Marisa Cody. Both specialized in viral mutation. Travis Stonewell and Kevin Yang in infectious disease. And that’s Henry Wakefield. He specialized in Epigenetics.”

“What’s that?” Wanda asked. 

“The study of the mechanisms of temporal and spatial control of gene activity during the development of complex organisms. Thus, in its broadest sense, _epigenetic_ can be used to describe anything other than DNA sequence that influences the development of an organism.”

Jilly blinked and gaped at Vision before nodding. “Yes, exactly. I suppose they wanted him to look at the genome of the dogs. See if he could see what was happening there. Get a different opinion.”

“Christ,” Bruce muttered. “So they’re zombies, but smart zombies. Fabulous.”

“Not smart, per se,” Clint corrected. “More… instinctual. He’s become the pack leader.”

“You’re likening them to wolves?” Jilly frowned. 

“Feral dogs,” Tony murmured. “They ripped that sheep apart.”

Again Jilly shivered. Clint stepped into her back and curled his arms around her. 

“I wasn’t on the human project,” she whispered. “Just the dogs, but I know nothing good will come of that,” she nodded toward the screen.

“Helen is still scanning the data, but she was shocked by it. Scared. Scared and she’d barely started,” Bruce said. “What I’ve read scares me.”

“It should scare all of you,” Jilly sighed. 

A double beep had Tony scrambling to drop his feet from the table they were resting on. “Friday’s in. Show us what we’re working with.”

Images began to show up square by square, causing Clint’s heart to clench. 

“Jesus,” Sam whispered.

“Oh, my God…” Peter paled. 

Carnage. There was nothing but carnage. 

 


End file.
